


That's The Real Me

by vocalspaz88



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:17:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5710612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vocalspaz88/pseuds/vocalspaz88





	1. Lights, Camera, Franchising?

“It’s not really my thing,” Harry was telling his stylist, wrinkling his nose at a pair of ugly camo joggers. He was supposed to be dressing for a fragrance advertisement, one for a popular American magazine, but he and his stylist thought that going shirtless and showcasing his tattoos would make for an edgier ad, which was what the marketing team seemed to be going for. So instead of a full outfit they were simply trying to select a good pair of trousers. If only ‘edgy’ didn’t always look so foul.  
“Come now, Harold, they aren’t that bad.”  
“My name’s not Harold,” He mumbled, a crooked smile spreading across his face. “Next pair please.”  
Lou Teasdale rolled her pretty blue eyes and kept looking, showing piece after piece to Harry until they both gave up and settled on black jeans and combat boots.  
They set him up in front of a backdrop that resembled a brick ally way in the pouring rain. Harry posed in a slurry of different ways until all parties eventually agreed on a shot of him at an angle, both his hands fisted in his wet hair.  
All in a day’s work, for a model.  
When the shoot was through, Harry pulled out his phone and sent a quick text as he got changed.  
Coffee? -HS  
Quickly, the response came in.  
Better. -NG  
A rush of excitement, guilt, then dread came over harry and he bit his lip as he buttoned up his shirt halfway. For the first time, Harry had been seeing another man. He’d always wanted to, but was reluctant to play the field until he met Nick. With a charming smile and boy next door good looks, Nick drew Harry in easily, and Harry was happy to sneak around with him. He never thought about the damage to his self-esteem, or the trouble he sank neck deep in, just about Nick and the chills he felt whenever they touched.  
Also, Harry almost always found himself itching for what Nick thought was ‘better than coffee.’ He was in way too deep.  
Be right over.-HS  
A quick drive through London and Harry was pulling up to Nick’s flat. He put his little red car in park, settling in to argue with himself. He always fought himself on this; did he really want to do it? Why was he doing it? Why did he ever start? What if he was stuck? The memory of the first time it happened flooded through his head; Nick’s teeth on his neck in the dark of night, hands gripping his slender hips until they bruised, a pouch of white powder…  
He killed the engine, swearing under his breath as he grabbed his back and headed on up. As usual, he was going to hate himself for this later.  
Almost quicker than he could knock, Harry felt hands at his waist yanking him into the little flat. The door was slammed behind him, locked, and suddenly he was in the dark. “Harry,” Nick whispered, holding their hips together as he took Harry’s lower lip between his teeth.  
A shiver rushed up Harry’s spine. “Nick… It’s just me.”  
“I know.”  
“So why are you whispering?”  
“Ears everywhere, doll face. Can’t be too careful.”  
“Yeah, wouldn’t want someone finding out you actually touched someone like me.”  
Nick stroked the curve of his neck. “Don’t be like that, it’s not just us we’re hiding here, doll.” He paused. “Speaking of; why don’t you go fetch the box?”  
Harry bit his lip and looked away, suddenly rethinking his decision to come up. Nick’s nails grazed his shoulder then, as if sensing his reluctance and he sighed, trudging down the hall. “Right.”  
When Harry returned there was a hungry look in Nick’s eyes, his pupils were blown wide and he ran a tongue over his lips. Nick got off on this, Harry could tell. He understood why it would get the guy going, honestly, it made Harry kind of hot too, but the way Nick acted with it was entirely different. It was like a fetish for him, almost scary. Harry swallowed hard and handed over the box, watching uneasily as Nick ripped off the lid, digging through the contents like a hound for a bone.  
Inside were spoons, lighters, syringes, needles and rubber tourniquets. Hidden among these were little pouches of white powder. Harry made a face, but freely offered his arm. He felt anxious, anticipating, but also he felt dread. Harry looked away as Nick prepped everything. As he tied up Harry’s arm with the tourniquet he frowned. “Harry are you feeling okay?”  
“I don’t know,” Harry mumbled. “I guess I was sort of hoping we could have skipped all this today and actually done coffee.”  
Nick didn’t even pause, loading up a syringe. “Why?”  
“Heroine isn’t exactly romantic,” Harry said under his breath.  
“What?”  
“Nothing. I mean, I guess I just didn’t really feel like going ballistic today.”  
Nick kissed Harry’s neck, easing the needle into his arm and pressing down on the plunger. “I like you ballistic. You’re you.”  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force his point across before the high kicked in. “It just seems like all we ever do is… get high.”  
“What’s your issue all of a sudden, doll? You’re acting like a bitch.”  
“It’s not all of a sudden,” Harry snapped, feeling the rush of adrenaline begin. “Do you think I like being addicted to this sludge? I just thought that after being a couple for two months, we-”  
“Hang on doll, hold it,” Nick interrupted. “Who ever said we were a couple?”  
Harry was dumbstruck. “You’re fucking kidding.”  
“Actually, I’m not.”  
“I’ve got to get out of here.”  
Harry ripped the tourniquet off of his bicep and stomped back towards the door, blood really pumping as the anger and the drug fed off of one another. He felt like setting something on fire.  
“Harry, don’t drive.”  
“Don’t act like you care,” Harry spat, and with that, he was out the door again. His head was reeling even as he sped out of sight.  
He knew he was driving recklessly, but when he was like this anything he felt was magnified, blown out of proportion. His happiness was elation, his sadness was crippling, and his anger made him see red. He felt invincible, like a different man all together. Nick said he was himself when he was this way, and sometimes, he wondered if that could actually be true.  
Overwhelmed, he skidded to a stop in an ally way down town and threw himself out of the car and into the crisp January air. The ally wasn’t unlike the backdrop from his earlier photo shoot, and for some reason, that made him feel even more compelled to trash it.  
Fueled by anger and riding on a heroin rush, he stormed into the ally and kicked over a trash bin, listening to the sweet sound of it crashing across the pavement like a familiar song. He stooped over and picked up bits of spilled rubbish, anything heavy or fragile, and threw. He smashed empty bottles and jars against the pick, relishing in the noise. It felt good to break things, it felt good to throw things, and if felt good to throw his head back and just yell, but after about ten minutes or so he found himself slowing down. His lungs ached with every breath, his heart trudged to pump his blood through his body. The crash had hit.  
Everything slowed. His movements, his breathing, his pulse and even his thoughts dragged as if moving through tar. Tears ran down his face and he leaned back against the brick, dizziness making him want to throw up. The only thing that stopped him from shoving his fingers down his throat just to feel better was accidentally meeting the gaze of a blue eyed stranger from across the street. He couldn’t have had too good a view of Harry, the ally was dark, but their eyes locked for a moment, sending electric panic through Harry’s veins, making goose bumps raise on his skin. The stranger was standing there in front of the new casino, smoking a cigar. The place was all lit up in spite of opening night not being until the next evening.  
Swallowing his nausea, Harry got back in the car and sped away, haunted by those blue eyes.

~  
The stranger across the street was Louis Tomlinson. He looked up at the casino, his casino, and then checked his watch. Louis was getting a little antsy, the ally was giving him the creeps, and he’d just locked eyes with someone who, if he wasn’t mistaken, was strung out on heroin. He hadn't gotten a very good look at the addict, it was getting dark, but he noticed vibrant green eyes that were filled with anger and pain. Louis had been both alarmed and entranced by the sight of him.  
He had to shake it off though because another business man, an American by the sound of the accent on the phone was supposed to be meeting him in front of Tomlinson Races, the classy casino bar he inherited from his dead beat father. He wasn’t sure what the meeting was supposed to be about, but he had agreed because there was apparently a lot of money in the deal, whatever it was.  
Louis was a multi-millionaire, he didn’t need the money for himself, but for his family. His mom, sisters, and his brother were all left with nothing when their father died, while Louis had the company and all the money practically forced upon him due to a miswording in the will. He had the option to sell to his half-sister, Georgia, who his father had intended the inheritance to, but he refused. The will had said to give everything to his first born. He hadn’t meant Louis, not the mistake from his first marriage, but Georgia, his first born from his second marriage. Whatever, Louis didn’t care. He saw the chance to care for his family and took the company along with everything that came with it.  
The chance didn’t come without cost, though. Louis had to give up everything to become the CEO of Tomlinson Races. He had to send himself to business school, get a degree instead of chasing his dream to travel the globe with his voice. All Louis had wanted was to sing, he loathed Tomlinson races, but no matter how Georgia tried he refused to sell to her, even though he had gained more than enough money to care for his family. He was terrified that if he ever sold, somehow, she would use the company to ruin the peace he has found with his mum and siblings. Louis couldn’t take the chance.  
Louis was brooding over this when he finally saw headlights glaring, another man in a stuffy suit pulling up in a blue sports care that looked an awful lot like the one he drove himself. He automatically liked the man, but put on a serious face anyway. “It’s about time,” He said as a tall, blonde man emerged. “We were supposed to meet up before dark.”  
“Jet lag,” The American said cockily as he strutted up to Louis and extended his hand. “Plus, I wanted to see the place all lit up. I’m Bill Ortega, nice to meet you Tomlinson.”

“Shall we go, then?” Without waiting for a response, Louis ignored the handshake and unlocked the new Casino. He stalked past all the eateries on the ground floor, all the slots and tables on the second and even the stages on the third. He went straight up to the fourth floor, the section of the place that resembled a VIP club. The dance floor, the DJ booth, and even the bar were lit up with neon. Louis went straight to for the booze, pouring himself and Ortega shots before perching on a barstool. “So why are we here?” He asked, sounding a little more bored than he had meant to.  
“I’ll be quick,” Ortega said. “I want to franchise Tomlinson Races in the US.”  
Louis’ brows shot up. He took a good sip of the vodka in his glass. “Any numbers for me?”  
“I’ve got your numbers,” Ortega said smugly, pulling a file folder out of his jacket and handing it over to Louis. “Take a look.”  
Louis pulled out his reading glasses and opened up the folder. The business plan, the entire plan, was staring Louis in the face. The numbers were staggering, if he agreed he’d be making almost fifty percent more than he already did, but there was a catch involved. “Wait, sell the company?” He looked up, brows knit together. “You’re trying to buy me out? No partnership, nothing?”  
“Not really my thing,” Ortega said. “Listen, all the proceeds from the UK casinos in business will still go to you, and the annuity I'm offering for the use of your name is beyond generous. What do you have to lose?”  
“My company!” Louis snapped, yanking his glasses off and shoving them back in his jacket pocket.  
Ortega leaned both elbows on the bar and got so close that Louis could smell the vodka they were drinking. “You don’t give a damn about this company,” He countered, voice low. “You and I both know that.”  
Louis clenched his fists. Ortega was onto him. “Get out of my casino.”  
Ortega chuckled, standing from the barstool and bowing dramatically. “My offer stands.”  
With that, the ballsy American showed himself out, leaving the file folder on the bar in front of Louis. There was a business card inside, an American address displayed in bold, army green. He poured himself another shot and downed it, storming from the casino and heading home. He had a big day ahead, preparing for his grand opening, and he needed some rest.  
~  
Harry didn’t even make it to his bedroom. He was sitting on the floor, back against the door of his charming flat. He was struggling to breathe, his head between his knees to battle the nausea. He already threw up twice on the drive home, and that was just one of the many joys Harry got with every heroine crash. The rush was great, he did things he’d never do; he felt brave, sexy, and indestructible. But after every high, the low was almost unbearable.  
Sometimes it lasted hours.  
Dread sinking in, the tears welled up in Harry’s eyes, but then the sound of keys in the lock startled him. With his lowered reaction time, however, the door swung open before he could muster the energy to stand. He fell backwards, hitting his head on a familiar pair of red trainers. Harry opened his eyes to see Nick peering down, pity etched across his features. “Stupid boy,” Nick sighed. “In front of the door, Harry, really?”  
“Couldn’t make it any farther,” Harry mumbled, turning to look at the corner where the doorframe met the floor. It was very dirty. “Why’re you here, anyhow? Aren’t you pissed off at me?”  
“I am,” Nick said. He paused. “Was. When you ran out on me like that I got a little anxious. You shouldn’t drive all doped up, doll face.”  
Harry grimaced when he recalled how blurry the asphalt had looked when he pulled over to hurl. “Yeah.”  
Nicks eyes softened on him, and Harry gave a little half smile when Nick extended a hand. “Come on, pretty thing. I’ll help you to your bed.”  
Almost managing a full smile, Harry gripped Nick’s forearm and let nick hoist him up. He leaned on Nick pretty heavily, shuffling from the foyer to his room with the much needed support. When they got there Nick laid him down a little too quickly and his head spun dizzily. “Easy tiger,” Nick laughed, climbing up and jostling Harry further. Before he could beg Nick to stop moving, suddenly Nick was kissing him. Harry felt light headed and sick to his stomach, he didn’t really want to be making out, but when Neck moved a hand up his shirt his pulse started pounding.  
“This’ll get your heartrate up,” Nick promised, moving to kiss on Harry’s neck.  
Harry didn’t feel well, but the kisses felt amazing, and his heart was starting to beat a little faster. Gasping in a shallow breath, Harry arched his body as Nick’s kisses moved lower, running his fingers through Nick’s hair. He was quiet, but his lips were parted as if he meant to moan, arousal slowly chiseling away at the sluggishness surrounding him.  
“Wanna do more?” Nick asked flirtatiously.  
Harry nodded almost desperately and with a smirk Nick helped him out of his trousers and boxers. Without a word Nick pushed three fingers into Harry’s mouth.  
Breathing a little quicker, Harry wet the fingers well, knowing that it was for his own good to do so. Nick had an aversion to using actual lube, always claiming that if properly turned on it was unnecessary. In Harry’s experience, that only applied to women, so sex could get a little painful for him if Nick didn’t go through enough preparation. However, Nick was the only partner Harry has ever slept with, so he didn’t really know any better. He winced when Nick began fingering him, but once his spit slicked him up a little it did start to feel good, allowing him to take a deep breath and relax.  
Sex with Nick didn’t stay slow like that for long, though, and before Harry knew it he was being turned over, the sound of Nick unfastening his belt warning him of what was coming. As usual, the intrusion was rough and forced. Harry’s eyes watered. “Tight, babe,” Nick huffed. “Do I need to be fucking you more often?”  
“Gentle,” Harry panted, cheek pressed into the pillows. Nick could be so careless.  
“Where’s the fun in gentle?”  
Ignoring Harry's weak protests, Nick kept going. It was rough, fast, and tireless all the way through, only slowing after Harry felt hot cum fill him. He shuddered when Nick pulled out, turning him back over. When Nick saw Harry hadn't cum yet, he sighed. “Come on, doll face, finish already.”  
Cheeks flaming, Harry sat up and straddled Nick’s thighs, kissing his neck, trying to entice him into helping. He didn’t like having to jerk himself off in front of Nick.  
Thankfully, nick took the bait and wrapped his hand around Harry’s dick, stroking him up and down until he finally reached his peak. Nick made a face as he shivered through it, shaking his hand off. “Yuck, go clean up, would you?”  
Still breathing kind of shallow, Harry squirmed away from Nick and slipped out of bed. He hunted for a towel and tidied up slowly, never meeting Nick’s eyes. Nick was all Harry knew when it came to sex, but he was sure he shouldn’t have to feel so damn embarrassed over finishing last, or over cumming on his partners hand after a hand job. It wasn’t exactly like he had any place else to cum.  
Pouting a little, he tossed the soiled towel in the hamper and climbed back into bed.  
“Hey, don’t pout,” Nick said, exasperated. “I'm not mad.”  
Harry’s brows knit together. “Mad?”  
“Not mad,” Nick corrected. “At what you said back at my place. It’s fine.”  
“Oh.”  
“I decided I couldn’t stay mad forever,” Nick continued, resting a hand on Harry’s naked ass and shamelessly groping him. “Plus I want you to come with me to the casino tomorrow.”  
Harry perked up a little. Tomlinson Races was brand new to London, and the grand opening had a fairytale masquerade theme. It was supposedly going to be fantastic. He’s been to big parties before with the people from the modeling agency and such, but never to a masquerade. The idea gave him butterflies, and he rested his hand over Nick’s bicep. “Really?”  
Nick shrugged him off. “Yeah, as friends,” He said. “People are saying it’s gonna be a pretty bang up party.”  
“Right,” Harry said, sounding deflated as Nick slipped out of bed and refastened his trousers. Nick may not have wanted to take Harry out on a date, but Harry was going to be the best date Nick’s ever had, regardless. It was going to go so well, that Nick would be begging Harry for a real relationship. He was gonna knock Nick out of his socks, dammit, and he was gonna do it without smack.


	2. Someday, My Prince Will Come

The big day. Tomlinson Races was having its grand opening in less than twenty four hours, and Louis was dreading it. He turned over and groaned, pulling the blankets over his face. He kept replaying his meeting with Bill Ortega in his mind. The money would be good, too good to be true, and that’s what was holding him up. With an offer like that, he couldn’t help but be jaded.  
For most of her life, his father had groomed half-sister Georgia for the eventual takeover of the casino, but because of a poorly worded will, she got nothing, and for that, she developed a taste for Louis’ blood.  
For that, Louis trusted no one who wanted to buy his company, especially with an offer that seemed to unreal.  
The thought of being saddled with Tomlinson Races until his inevitable death made him want to peel his own face off, but before he could be tempted his unlocked door swung open and his eighteen year old sisters Daisy and Phoebe came running in to jump on him. “Today’s the day!” The twins shrieked together. “Get up, get up!”  
“I’m half naked, fuck, get out!” Louis’ laughed, yanking his duvet over his naked torso. “Knock you little freaks!”  
The creepily rolled their eyes in unison. “Oh, please.”  
Since they wouldn’t scram, Louis shrugged into his robe and listened to them chatter while he got ready for his day. He didn’t mind them, he actually enjoyed their presence, even if he was busy. Their cheer and optimism made it easier for him to get excited about things, even though he had been dreading this day for weeks. That was one of the many reasons he had purchased such a large mansion; he wanted to keep his whole family close to him, especially Daisy and Phoebe. He was closer with them than anyone else on earth. “I was thinking a castle made of lights could look good on the big wall facing the stage,” Phoebe was saying while Louis trimmed his facial hair. “Like stringed lights. Wouldn’t that be fun?”  
“Sure,” Louis said sarcastically. “Unless you’re the one setting up.”  
“Can we do it, Lou?” Daisy asked. “Please? We won’t mess up, I swear.”  
“I already hired a decorating crew, though,” Louis protested.  
“We can boss them around, then,” Phoebe said.  
Louis looked between the two of them and chuckled. “Just let me shower, okay? Then we’ll go get started.”  
They cheered and hugged either side of him, kissing both his cheeks. They left him alone to strip, but even as he got into the steamy shower he could still hear them giggling over their decoration plans. Smiling fondly, Louis showered, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair back. After he dressed he collected the girls and dragged them to the casino, seeing that the decorating crew had already started setting up. He let the girls handle giving them instructions, and just supervised as everything started looking more and more like a fairytale ball. “I hope I meet a cute boy,” Daisy mused as they worked. “This is the first time Phoebe and I are gonna be old enough to attend one of your parties.”  
“A cute boy, huh?” Louis wouldn’t mind one of those, himself. “You never bring any lovers home.”  
“I do more often than you,” She countered, sticking out her tongue. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a girl.”  
“Me either,” Phoebe agreed. “Geez, Lou, don’t you get lonely? You could have your pick of girls, you know.”  
He supposed they were old enough to know the truth about that. “Well let’s just say I’d rather pick out a cute boy.”  
They seemed both unaffected and surprised by this news. “Okay,” They said together.  
“Well, why haven’t you brought a boyfriend home, then?” Phoebe added.  
“Never once have I dated anyone who fell for the real me,” Louis answered honestly. “They always wanted something from me, like status or money, or just sex. I wouldn’t dream of bringing someone like that home, not with you dorks running around. You’re all too pure.  
“As if!” They scoffed.  
Between the three of them and the crew, they finished the place up quick, chatting about boys the whole time. It honestly looked amazing, like it was built to look this way, and with everyone in costume later Louis just knew it was going to feel like a whole different world.  
~  
For the first time in a while, Harry had butterflies in his stomach. He was getting all dressed up for Tomlinson Races’ grand opening party. He felt like royalty in his white jacket and red cape. His sister Gemma actually made the costume for him, which made it that much more special. Never for the life of him could he comprehend how she could sew so well so quickly, but he was happy she did it for him because the costume looked lovely.  
Harry had mulled over the idea of pulling his shoulder length hair into a red ribbon, but hadn’t quite decided. He was still debating when suddenly his phone started ringing, startling him half to death. Harry was shocked to see his mother’s face on his screen, and he hit ‘ignore’, brow furrowed in thought. He and his mother weren’t actually speaking, so a call from her had been the last thing he had expected.  
Frazzled, Harry ran a hand through his hair and pulled that ribbon from the dresser after all, tying up his curls with a boy just for something to do. He was endlessly relieved when he heard Nick unlocking the front door, he didn’t want to think about his mother, so after a last glance in the mirror he rushed out into the foyer to meet him. When he heard voices he didn’t recognize, he frowned. “-to get the post once when he was on holiday,” He heard Nick replying, as if explaining something. He heard the jingling of keys and realized that Nick was making excuses to hide their… whatever it was that they had. Harry’s cheeks burned with embarrassment when the door opened and six sketchy looking lads poured into his flat. Nick was leading the pack, and though they were all in costume, the costumes were cheap and tacky, nothing like the elaborate suit Gemma had made.  
Suddenly Harry wasn’t feeling so excited anymore.  
Without invitation they piled into the living room, flopped down on his furniture, and guffawed about their plans for the evening. With a sigh Harry trudged into the kitchen with a deep frown. He figured he’d put some tea on for the beasts.  
Listening to them grunt at each other was making him sick.  
“We’re gonna blow so much cash tonight,” Someone was saying.  
“Get drunk as hell,” Added another.  
“Well I’m mostly pumped for the card tables,” Nick said to them. “At least until the girls come out.”  
“Girls?” They chorused. Harry rolled his eyes, moving his pretty, ceramic tea set to a wooden tray.  
“Oh yeah,” Nick said smugly. “Strippers, man.”  
The smash of the tea cup Harry dropped caught the group’s attention. For the first time since stampeding into his home, they all looked at Harry, suddenly staring. Nick’s face said it all: Harry was embarrassing him already.  
Face heating up, Harry scratched at the back of his neck. “Cup slipped,” He mumbled sheepishly. “Sorry.”  
And just like that they were back to ignoring him. Mortified and more than a little angry, Harry brought the tea and passed out cups. Naturally, he got no thanks in return.  
Still totally pouting, Harry wedged himself between Nick and one of the strangers, sipping his tea with a scowl.  
“… What’s with him?” Someone asked gruffly, dumping milk in his tea.  
“That was his best cup,” Nick lied, shooting Harry a glare. Harry was beyond giving a shit, he knew that Nick didn’t love him, or even consider them a couple, but he had thought that maybe if they could enjoy just one little date together, that could change. Harry had wanted this party to be special, but so far he was miserable, and they hadn’t even left the house. Thus began one of the worst evenings of his life.  
~  
In the game of poker, or so Harry noticed, men always seemed to have some form of arm candy hanging all over them, being their good luck charm. Most of the boys had picked out a stripper or two, paying them for their extra ‘companionship.’ For Nick, this responsibility somehow fell upon Harry. The boys had all roared with laughter when harry had refused to play, all loudly daring Nick to take him his as his so called ‘poker bitch.’ Well, Harry was sick of being a poker bitch. So, instead of sitting pretty like one of the strippers, Harry started drinking, ordering under Nick’s tab.  
The staff kept his glass full of a specialty drink called a ‘red riding hood.’ As one would expect, it was bright red. It was made of sour cherry vodka and seltzer, with sweet flavored syrups that gave it color and a fruiter taste. Harry was on his fourth when he started getting a little horny.  
Smirking, he put his hand on Nick’s thigh, squeezing it under the table. When Nick looked over his eyes were dark with lust, but he was glaring. Harry stuck his tongue out and ordered another red riding hood, seductively licking the sugar chunks from the rim. “Cut it out, Harry,” Nick hissed as the group moved to go play the slots. “I’ll indulge your fucking fantasies later if you cool it in front of my friends.”  
“What?” Harry slurred. “Am I not your doll face when the lads are around?”  
“Shut your damn mouth, they’ll hear you!”  
“Piss off.”  
“I’m serious, dammit!”  
“Cunt.”  
“Look,” Nick growled. “One more word and your cunt is gonna get it with a curling iron. Got it?”  
The vulgar threat was alarming, and Harry was prepared to relent, but then one of the guy’s turned around and raised a brow. “You coming, Nick?”  
Harry got his nerve back. “Not with all these girls around!” He yelled back.  
What Harry didn’t expect was for Nick to turn around and punch him right across the face. He stumbled back, tripped and fell, but nick had him by the shirt front in seconds flat. “You dirty fucking faggot,” Nick spat, eyes burning furiously. “Go ahead, talk! I’ll beat you fucking bloody, you hear me?”  
That sobered him up real quick. Tears welled up in his eyes and his lip trembled, but more than hurt or sad, he was angry. “Beat me, then, if you’ve gotta!” Harry snapped. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. One minute you’re getting off on me, the next your cold as ice, and now you’re hitting me! Perfect!”  
Nick yanked him closer and shook him until his hair started slipping from its ponytail. Now, Nick was whispering. “You’re meat, doll face. Nothing but a piece of meat.”  
Harry winced when Nick raised his fist again, and though he heard a punch, he didn’t feel any pain. He opened his eyes and saw a familiar looking stranger holding Nick by the neck. Nick’s lip was split and bleeding. “Get out,” The handsome stranger snarled. “Now.”  
He shoved Nick like a rag doll and Harry watched, moth open, and he and the lads turned on their heels and ran. Then, the stranger extended his hand, blue eyes kind and bright like the daytime sky. He helped Harry up and stepped close, tucking one of Harry’s long curls back into place. “Are you alright, princess?”  
Harry stared as he stood, eventually having to look down at the shorter man. There was so much kindness, genuine concern in those blue eyes that he just broke inside, the weight of the evening’s troubles pressing down on him until he broke down crying. The blue eyed stranger urged Harry into a crouch and just hugged him. When the crying slowed and they both straightened, the stranger smiled. “Come with me.”


	3. Playing house

Even though Louis’ office was a few floors up from the commotion by the slots, he could still hear the steady hum of voices and music. It was a wonder he ever got any work done; all the noise was definitely distracting, but Louis was used to it. This beautiful green eyed man in front of him was his focus, anyway. Harry, he thought he had heard.  
Harry.  
The man really was beautiful, he had a face like a doll, and seeing him so upset was heart breaking. “Here, sit,” Louis said, pulling out the armchair that sat in front of his desk. Louis sat right beside him in the matching one. “Are you okay?” Louis asked.  
There was no response. Louis frowned. “What happened out there?” Nothing.  
“Will you at least tell me your name?”  
Harry just turned his head, brushing away a strand of hair that had escaped his pretty red ribbon. Tears were streaming down his angular cheeks, and it made Louis’ chest feel tight. He sighed. “Tomlinson.”  
Harry looked up, not understanding.  
“My name,” he explained. “Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson. These casinos were my father’s dream, not mine.” He paused, but since Harry seemed engaged he went on talking. “I got it all when he died, the company, the money, the uncomfortable suits… Everything. I never wanted it, I couldn’t stand it, and I hated my father. Still I took the company and his millions to take care of my real family, so here I am. That’s my story.”   
After another pause, Louis added: “You don’t have to tell me yours, I just wanted you to know me. You know, so I’m not a stranger anymore.”  
There was a long stretch of silence, and Louis just gave the beautiful man beside him a soft smile. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk, prepared to settle in until the poor thing felt okay enough to go back down, but then, he spoke up.  
“Harry. Harry Styles is my name.”  
Louis looked up, smile widening. “Oh yeah? Okay, Harry. How about I give you a lift home?”  
Those green eyes seemed a little less glassy than before. “Okay.”  
Louis stood and held out his hand, when harry took it he led him out of the office and down the cozy hall until they reached an elevator. It was the staff elevator, and would take them straight to the ground floor where all the eateries were. From there I t would be easy to sneak out.  
Into in the elevator, Louis couldn’t help but notice how tightly Harry was holding his hand. “He won’t see us,” Louis assured him. “Your boyfriend I mean.”  
“He… He isn’t my boyfriend.”  
“Ex, then,” Louis corrected himself.   
Harry just shook his head. “No. Not even that. We were never really a couple. He’s only into guys, and I’ve never really dated a guy before, so I guess I was an easy lay.”  
Louis felt awful for him. “How’d someone like you cross paths with such a prick?”  
“He was my photographer,” Harry answered. “I model, and I was doing an ad for Abercrombie and Fitch… Anyway, the ad was supposed to be real sexy but the girl and I were both gay and couldn’t take each other seriously, we were just laughing a lot you know, and Nick noticed. At first he was sweet, we spent all night doing it, taking dirty pictures with his fancy camera…” Harry was staring sadly at the wall, looking worlds away. “I really fancied him, but after a while I realized he just wanted to get off together. Nothing more.”  
Louis shook his head, wishing he’d broken Nick’s nose. “If you knew why’d you stay with him?”  
Harry looked down at his shoes. “Figured maybe I could change his mind about me.”  
When the elevator doors opened, Louis moved his hand to the dip in Harry’s waist, right where it met his hip, hoping his touch would comfort him somehow. Harry moved closer, so Louis got a good grip and gave him a reassuring squeezed. “My car is over this way,” Louis said gently.  
Harry nodded, but kept looking behind him as they walked as if he were expecting Nick to show up. “He’s gone,” Louis reminded Harry. “Ran off like a sissy, remember?”  
This seemed to make Harry feel a lot better, and hip to hip they made their way to Louis’ blue sports car. “You’ll have to navigate, love,” Louis was saying as he turned his key in the ignition. As soon as the car started up though so did the stereo, and Louis felt his face go red as his own voice poured through the speakers.   
He switched it off quickly, and Harry looked over at him, interested. “Was that you, Louis?”  
The sound of his own name in Harry’s deep, silky voice only made him blush darker. “Oh, yeah. Nothing really good, though.”  
“You a song writer or something?”  
Louis laughed without humor. “No, definitely not. I’m a business man, Harold. I shouldn’t be wasting my time writing songs no one will ever hear.”  
As soon as he said it, he knew Harry saw right through him. “Bullshit,” He snickered, a small smile gracing his features. “And my name’s not Harold.”  
In spite of it all, they started laughing.  
~  
Even though he felt like they had bonded, it was a little strange to have Louis in his flat. It was all so unfamiliar to Harry, the kind blue eyes, the charming smile, the voice…. And having it all in his face at once, in his apartment, was unusual. He was so used to being alone, or with Nick.  
“You alright, Harold?”  
Harry looked up and there it was: the smile that made Louis’ eyes wrinkle in the corners. Harry had to smile back. “Yeah, Lou, I’m alright.”  
“Lou?”” Louis chuckled, following Harry into the kitchen. “Where did Lou come from?”  
The crunch of glass underfoot made them both look down. Louis lifted his shoe and there was the cup Harry had dropped earlier. The night’s events came flooding back and he drew in a deep breath.  
Louis gave him a sympathetic look. “Hey, it’s late,” He said gently. “you should really get some sleep, princess.”  
Something told Harry that the nickname was gonna stick, but even though the sound of it made him happy, he knew if he went to sleep Louis would leave. If Louis left… Well, what if Nick showed up? Or worse, what if Nick showed up high? “Wait,” Harry said. “Please. I… I don’t know if can sleep alone tonight.”  
Harry’s worried melted away when just like that, Louis was by his side, giving him a gentle pat on in the dip of his waist. “If you need me, I’ll stay.”  
Harry lowered his head to rest it on Louis’ shoulder. He didn’t know what he smelled, but it made his heart beat faster and it smelled expensive. “I need you.”  
For a little while Louis just held him, and when they drew apart Harry felt worlds better. “I’ll get you something to change into,” Harry said, looking Louis over. Louis was broader than him, more muscular, but shorter for sure. This made Harry laugh a little. “Come on.”  
Harry led Louis into his room and pulled a pair of flannel bottoms from a drawer, tossing them to Louis. “You can wear these with your undershirt, yeah?”  
Louis smiled. “Yeah.”  
Harry in the bathroom, and Louis in the bedroom, they changed into pajamas and as he came back out, Harry pulled the ribbon from his hair, letting his curls fall past his shoulders. When he saw Louis standing there in the too long pants and his tight undershirt, his mouth went dry. “You uh… You’ve got a good bit of ink in you,” Harry commented.  
Louis quirked a brow. “So do you.”  
Blushing, Harry climbed in bed, leaving room for Louis. “Night, Lou,” He teased as he felt Louis joining him.  
“Night, princess.”  
A smile crossed Harry’s face, and as they settled in for the night Harry was glad that Louis hadn’t tried to sleep on the floor, the couch, or in the guest room. He was happy to have someone close by after such a scary, stressful evening.  
Louis must have been tired, though, because after fiddling with his phone for a minute or so, Louis was out cold, snoring softly with one arm slung around Harry’s waist. The sheer amount of ink there was impressive, if a bit shocking on a business man. A heart and a dear head up on his bicep, and a slurry of what looked like casual doodles all over his for arm. A cup of tea, an infinity knot, little birds, a skate boarder and more things like that decorated Louis skin, and Harry wondered what they all meant.  
Biting his lip Harry reached out to touch, tracing the little birds with his fingertips. They looked like the birds a small child might draw, but they still looked like art work on Louis. Harry fell asleep day dreaming about catching each of these birds and keeping them, a part of Louis, close to him forever.  
~  
With the morning came a cold chill. Louis opened his eyes, bolting upright in an unfamiliar bed sitting in an unfamiliar room. He looked around frantically, but then his eyes fell on the red ribbon that was lying in a heap on the floor. Harry.  
For a short time, Louis relaxed, but though he realized where he was he was suddenly realizing something else: Harry was gone. “Harry?” He called, slipping out of bed and shuffling through the apartment, trying not to trip on Harry’s too long pants. Not a sign of him anywhere! Dammit, why hadn’t Louis asked the man’s phone number? “Harry? Harry!”  
Then, the sound of a key in a lock made Louis freeze.  
When Harry stepped into the foyer, Louis visibly relaxed while on the other hand, Harry went whiter than a ghost. “No, no, no,” Harry mumbled, almost slurring he spoke so slowly. He wagged a finger accusingly. “No, you were supposed to be… You were supposed to be… You should have left by now. You…”  
Harry paused, looking dizzy and holding a hand over his mouth. When he swayed to one side Louis dashed across the flat, catching Harry before he could hit his head on the floor. Harry slumped in his arms, dead weight, eyes closed. Louis couldn’t even feel him breathing. He panicked. “Harry!” He cried until his voice went hoarse. “Harry! God Harry, say something! Harry!”  
One green eye popped open, fixing Louis with an irritated look. Finally, Louis felt a breath. “Can you not?” Harry mumbled.  
Dumbstruck, Louis didn’t say a word as Harry’s eyes closed again. Alarmed and confused, Louis lifted Harry up and carried him to the living room. Harry was a lot taller than he was, but was light, thin, and the way he folded himself up like a child melted Louis’ heart.  
He laid Harry down on the couch, covered him up with the throw blanket, figuring he’d let the guy sleep off whatever ailed him. It was no hangover, that was for sure, but Louis couldn’t begin to guess what it was. He glanced at the clock. It was almost noon, he’d slept longer than he’d thought, and since it was just about lunch time, Louis figured he’d throw something together for them to eat.  
Timidly, Louis leafed around through the fridge and cabinets gathering seemingly random ingredients that looked tasty to him. He made a mess, it took close to two whole hours, but eventually he had chicken in the oven and mash on the stove.  
“Lou?”  
He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Bleeding Christ, Harry!” He shouted, voice shooting up an octave. He never even heard him move.  
A small smile fought for control of Harry’s face, his resistance making the most endearing dimples Louis had ever seen appear on his cheeks. The oven timer chimed, and Harry sniffed. “Sorry. So, what are you up to in my kitchen, then?  
Blushing, Louis went to take the chicken out of the oven and move the potatoes off the heat. “Well, I can’t really cook,” He admitted sheepishly. “But I cooked some chicken, stuffed with mozzarella cheese, wrapped in parma ham, and then I did some mashed potatoes.”  
Louis didn’t realize he had been making goofy hand gestures until Harry was repeating them back at him. “So chicken,” Harry snickered. “Stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in parma ham, with mashed potatoes.”  
Louis playfully shoved Harry, his cheeks going red. “Piss off.”  
“You found all of that in my kitchen?”  
“… Yeah.”  
Harry smiled. “On you go, then. Find some plates.”  
Together they gathered plates and flat wear. There was something about curling up on Harry’s couch with a hot meal that just felt so domestic. He was already so comfortable around Harry, being near him felt good. He wondered if Harry felt the same way. “Harry…” Louis began.  
Harry looked up, covering his mouth as he finished chewing up his last bite of chicken. “Hmm?”  
“I want to see you again,” Louis admitted. “Really soon. I was thinking tonight maybe? I'm off work, and I-”  
“Oh, fuck!” Harry suddenly shouted. “I fell asleep and you… Oh fuck!”  
Louis stared, alarmed, as Harry dashed into his bedroom, throwing open drawers and stripping out of his pajamas. Louis blushed, turning his head when he caught a peek at Harry’s naked butt cheeks. Someone clearly slept pantsless. “Alright in there, Harry?”  
“Work!” He yelled, frantic. “I had a photo shoot at four, I'm gonna be late!”  
Louis looked at his Rolex, wincing on Harry’s behalf. It was almost four forty. “Oh, fuck.”  
“Yeah!”  
Harry, shirt unbuttoned and one shoe untied, tried to run past Louis towards the door but Louis grabbed his arm. “Need a ride?”  
“What? Oh, no, thank you. You can linger here a bit if you want, but I’ve got to go.”  
“Let me walk you out, then.”  
Even though the pavement was cold on his bare feet, he was glad he had come out. Harry took one look at the little red car on the lot and covered his mouth, stifling a sob.  
All four tires were slashed.  
Louis tapped him gently on the hip. “It’s alright, Harry. I’ll drive you.”  
Harry nodded, but by the way he gulped and the way his eyes shone with tears, Louis knew that it wasn’t alright. Harry was terrified.  
Louis slung his arm over Harry’s shoulder as if that alone could protect him. Harry nudged him back with his thumb, a wordless thanks as they got into Louis’ blue sports car.  
~  
Lou Teasdale, hilariously, reminded him of Louis every time he spoke her name. He made a mental note to think of a better, goofier nickname for Louis so he could stop sighing his stylist’s name. “You’re acting odd today,” Lou commented as she put makeup on him. This was actually one of Harry’s favorite parts of modeling, he liked seeing how the makeup could enhance his features. “You feeling alright?”  
Harry thought back to that morning when he’d woken up in Louis’ arms. Somehow, the shorter man had managed to wrap himself around Harry, holding him close, Harry had felt so warm and protected that he had thought about skipping his daily fix. He considered dealing with withdrawal for a day just to stay in bed. He almost did.  
Almost.  
“Harry?”  
“Hmm?” Harry looked up. “What?”  
“I asked if you were feeling alright.”  
“Oh, yeah, fine thanks.”  
The rest of the shoot followed this pattern, and eventually Lou just accepted that he was going to keep acting like a git all day.  
After he was through, Harry went outside looking for Louis’ car, but was stunned to see his own instead. The keys were already in the ignition, and the heat was going. The car looked better than it had looked when Harry bought the little beast. It had a glossy new coat of red paint, it was washed, polished, and had four brand new tires. The first thing Harry had noticed, however, was the note that was wedged under his wiper blade, fluttering in the January wind.  
Harry,  
I'm very sorry not to be there to give you a lift home. There was a family emergency so my sister and I went ahead and got your tires fixed so you could get home alright. I didn’t want you to have to call a taxi. Hope to see you soon, drive safe.  
Xoxo, Louis.  
A smile spread across his face as he got in the car, still staring at the ex’s and o’s at the bottom of the note. When he sat in the driver’s seat, he noticed something else. There was a small, stuffed pigeon in the passenger’s seat, placed gingerly beside another note, written in a little girl’s handwriting.  
This is Kevin.  
Love, Doris.  
He picked up the little bird and just laughed, feeling warm and fuzzy all over.


	4. Head In The Clouds

“It was her brain tumor.”  
Every time Louis heard the words “Brain” and “Tumor” used together he felt sick to his stomach. Next to him, his six year old sister, Doris, squeezed his leg. He reached down to hug her closer. “It’s okay, Dottie,” He murmured to her. “Why don’t you go sit with Ernest? He’s over there with Felicity.”  
After another quick embrace, Doris rushed to go sit with her twin brother, leaving Louis alone to face the doctor.  
His mother had been living with a brain tumor for nearly four years, and according to most doctors, she shouldn’t have lasted even one. Her dying was a constant fear. Louis’ biggest fear, more than anything, was losing someone that he held dear. Thinking about it made him physically ill. He swallowed back bile, his stomach churning with nausea. “What happened to her?” Louis asked finally.  
“Your mother was getting repeatedly sick,” The doctor replied. “The vomiting was beginning to cause her severe dehydration, so we have her on fluids.”  
The man saw the look of alarm on Louis’ face and back peddled. “She’s been since stabilized,” He assured Louis. “She’s comfortable, happy, and talking with your sisters. They’re waiting for you now, actually.”  
After a nod Louis rushed into the room with his mother’s name on the door. She was sitting up in bed, Daisy, Phoebe, Charlotte and a lot of doughnuts crowded around her. She smiled when she spotted her eldest child, holding open her arms.  
She looked so happy, but also so pale, so fragile, and so weak. Louis felt himself getting choked up and he hurried to her side, hugging her tightly. “Mum…”  
“Oh don’t cry, honey,” Johanne laughed. “Louis, baby, look at me!”  
He raised his head and she patted his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, not today.”  
“I don’t want you to go on any day,” Louis mumbled childishly.  
“Well, when you figure out how to brew the elixir of life, let me know.” She chuckled.  
“That’s not funny.”  
“Neither is your hair,” Johanne said fussing with Louis’ bangs. “When did you start wearing your hair like a forty year old? It’s so boring.”  
“Mum, I work in business.”  
“Yes, and your hair used to look so fun in spite of that. You keep changing baby, and I’m not sure that it’s for the better.”  
This wasn’t just about his hair; they had this talk a lot. “I’m just doing everything I can to care for my family.” Louis mumbled.  
“That burden should have never been yours to bear.” Johanne said sadly. “Just start wearing your hair fluffy again. Humor me.”  
“Okay, Mum.”  
Up until that point the girls had been quiet, peacefully nibbling doughnuts and letting Louis have his moment with mom, but Charlotte spoke up at that moment. “Incoming,” she warned calmly.  
The five of them turned towards the door just as the babies burst through, Felicity close behind. “Sorry, Mum,” She laughed. “Dottie wanted to talk to Louis, and naturally Ernest wanted to go along…”  
“Did Harry like Kevin?” The six year old asked enthusiastically.  
“I haven’t seen Harry yet,” Louis answered. He could feel Daisy and Phoebe staring at the back of his head. “Stay here and look after mum, okay? I’ll let you know when I talk to him again.”  
“You promise?”  
“Yes.” Louis sighed.  
This seemed to settle her and she climbed up onto the bed with Johanne. Louis stood, and as he opened his mouth about to ask how long she had to stay, but before he could Daisy and Phoebe were flanking him, each getting a good grip on his arms. “We’ll come along, Lou.” They chimed together, promptly dragging him away.  
As soon as they were out in the lobby Louis yanked his arms free. “Little vixens,” He huffed.”What?”  
“Who’s Harry?” They asked enthusiastically.   
A smile appeared on Louis’ face. “An angel, I’m sure.”  
They seemed pleased by this response, because they swooned. “So,” Phoebe gushed. “Tell be everything.”  
“Yeah,” Daisy said. “We want all the dirty details!”   
“There are no dirty details to share.” Louis laughed. “And even if there were, I wouldn’t be getting graphic with my baby sisters.”  
“Prick.” They chorused.  
Louis ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, alright, What do you want to know?”   
“Everything.”   
“Alright,” Louis sighed, and leaning back against the wall, he told the twins about how he had met Harry. He left out the part about Harry fainting on him, though; instead focusing on how Harry had admired all his tattoos as they shared a bed. “I dreamed that he was my tattoo artist, actually,” Louis admitted. “And he spent the whole session just holding my hand.”   
“Aww, Lou,” Daisy laughed. “What’d he give you?”  
Louis blushed. “A bird, actually. A big one, right here.” He touched a spot on his forearm.   
“Cute!” She chirped. “You should really get it!”   
Louis smiled. “Think so?” Harry had similar birds across his chest. That wouldn’t be too weird right?  
“Definitely.”   
“I think you should ask him on a date, afterwards.” Phoebe said. “But first we’ve gotta do a little shopping.”  
“Why?” Louis asked.  
“Because you dress like a middle aged lawyer.”   
A frown crossed his brow. “Thanks.”  
“It’s not like you’re totally hopeless,” Daisy mused. “You used to dress nicer, cooler I mean, back when you ran around singing with that blonde guy.”   
Louis blushed. That blonde guy’s name had been Niall, and they actually dated a while. Niall had been the only one who supported Louis’ music, but they had drifted apart years ago. “Fine, we’ll go shopping.”  
~  
Harry was smitten. When he woke up the next morning, the first thing he laid eyes on was Kevin, the little stuffed pigeon. He grabbed it and hugged it, a dopey smile on his face as he thought of that man, his knight in shining armor. He thought about how Louis had carried him, held him, and called him princess. No one had ever made Harry feel so special. He was elated as he slipped out of bed, singing dopey love songs to himself as he made tea and some soft boiled eggs for breakfast.  
While the water got going Harry pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his friend Liam.   
‘Busy mate? I’m itching for some new ink. Come with? HS.’  
As most of Harry’s tattoos were, this was totally spur of the moment and impulsive. Still he was sure.   
Yeah, sure. Bringing any powder? LP   
Harry made a face, feeling a twinge of shame as he responded in the affirmative. He really didn’t want to get doped up, but he knew he’d start feeling like shit by afternoon if he didn’t get a little fix. He arranged a time and place with Liam, telling himself he’d only use a little. He was too happy to want to ruin it with a heroine crash.   
Pushing this from his mind as he devoured his breakfast, Harry instead thought about Louis again, all of those little tattoos holding stories Harry would love to hear, and the way it had felt to sleep beside him. Thoughts like this kept Harry on cloud nine as he finished his meal, showered and got dressed to go. He sang like a mad man screaming, eyes shit tight and mouth open wide as he bared his soul in song.   
A knock on the door startled him. “Jesus, Harry,” called Liam, his voice muffled by the door. “Could you be any louder?”  
After opening the door, Harry gave Liam a quick hug, grinning like a fool. “I could sure try.” Harry answered.   
“Only teasing,” Liam said, smiling. “You’re good. Ever think of singing?”  
“I have, actually,” Harry said wistfully. “Used to perform a little with an old mate back in Cheshire, when I lived with me mum. He and I were close, but I fancied him, so…” He shrugged.   
“Sucks, mate,” Liam sighed sympathetically. Liam knew Harry liked guys. He didn’t know about what happened with Nick, but he knew the rest. “You’ll find someone, Harry.”   
“Niall is old news,” Harry said, waving his hand dismissively. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since moving. I’m fine.”  
“You’re lonely,” Liam argued. “And obviously need to be performing.”  
“Well, you sing too don’t you?’   
“Not for just anyone.” Liam chuckled. “And I’m usually either high or drunk.”   
“Pitty. We’d make swell bandmates.”  
Both of them laughing, Harry slung his arm around Liam’s shoulders and they made their way out, heading straight for their favorite tattoo parlor.  
“Hey fuckers, back for more?” yelled the man behind the counter as they entered.   
“Piss off, Clint,” Harry and Liam shouted at once.   
Flipping them the finger, Clint came out from behind the counter, urging his assistant to stand watch.   
“Come on lads.” Clint said, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s get the paper work done. What’s it gonna be this time?”  
“Ask Harry, Liam scoffed. “My arrows are still tender.”  
“Baby.”  
“I want a bird cage,” Harry said.   
Clint and Liam both turned to look at him.   
“Bird cage?” Clint repeated “Huh okay, guess that’s no queerer than the butterfly. Where at? You’re running out of flesh.”  
Harry scrunched his face in thought, patting himself down as if frisking himself for free space. “Here.” He decided, arms raised. He pointed at his ribs just under his arm pit.   
“Your ribs Harry, really?” Clint asked. “That’s gonna hurt like a bitch, you know.”  
“Yeah, I know.”   
“Okay, you know the drill.”  
Grinning, Harry laid down on the tattoo table, pulling off his shirt. He lifted his arms and crossed his arms behind his head, waiting for Clint he got the stencil ready. They chattered about what the bird cage should look like, and before long the familiar sound of the tattoo gun was sending thrills across Harry’s skin.   
When the tattooing began Harry bit his lip, gripping the roots of his hair with his free hand. The ribs did hurt, a ton, but the sting felt strangely…good. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sucking in a deep breath. He hardly noticed when Liam pulled up a stool to watch. After a while, though, he cracked an eye open and bit his thumb nail.  
“What?”  
“You look like you’re getting off on this,” Liam commented.   
“Haven’t you ever seen Harry get ink before?” Clint asked, not skipping a beat. “He always looks like he’s getting off on it.”  
Harry adopted a guilty expression, playing it off like a good joke without confirming or denying the accusation. He didn’t know if he was getting off exactly, but it made him feel hot and gave him shivers all over. The pain of it made him squirm. His face went a little red. Maybe they had a point.   
There were more jokes about Harry’s reaction throughout the process of the tattooing, but Harry ignored them, just focusing on holding still. After a while though it was finished =, and Clint went through the usual spiel about after care, touch ups, and all that.   
“I know, I know.” Harry said, pushing his bangs back and standing in front of the mirror. He lifted his arm and smiled, lightly running his fingertips over the tender skin surrounding the new tattoo. “Thanks Clint.” He said. “It looks great.”  
“I’ll see you in for more soon, I’m sure.”  
Laughing, Harry and Liam said their goodbyes and got going, heading over to Harry’s place again. It was unspoken, but they both knew what was happening next. Harry went to his room and pulled a box from the highest shelf in his closet, bringing it out into the living room where Liam was waiting. Liam grinned and Harry flipped his hair, setting everything up. He was used to getting high with Liam, and as Harry felt his rush hit, the playful aggression began. Harry moved closer to Liam on the couch, sprawling across his lap. “So guess why I got this new ink.”  
“Mmmm, why?”  
“A man.” Harry sighed dreamily, shaking his hair out. He got pretty fidgety when he was high. He slapped Liam enthusiastically on the thigh. “A really good one, I like him a lot, but we only just met like…” Harry pushed his hair back, staring up at the ceiling. “But he made me feel good.”  
“Yeah?” Liam snickered. “How good? Did you call him ‘Daddy’?”   
“Fuck off, you kinky bastard.” Harry laughed. “No, it’s not like that. He didn’t lay a hand on me, he was kind. Something about him was different that anyone I’ve ever known.”   
The room was quiet for a while.  
“Wow.” Liam whistled.  
Harry frowned. “Wow, what?”  
Liam smiled. “Wow, you love him.”  
“Shut up, I do not.” Harry said sitting up and shoving Liam hard. “He was kind to me, that’s all. I’m not used to that.”  
“Wait until I tell Zayn that little Harold is in love.”   
“Jesus, I’m not in love you prick, I told you he was just kind to me. And don’t call me Harold, why does everybody call me Harold?”  
“You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”  
“Shut up,” Harry grumbled, sitting up and punching Liam hard on the arm with the last of his strength. He was starting to feel his crash coming on, but secretly, he didn’t mind being called cute. He was just a little shaken up over Liam accusing him of being in love. He’s always dreamed of finding a guy and falling for him, but he’s never done it before. Imagining the commitment made him dizzy.  
Harry leaned his face in his hands and his elbows on his knees, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. Liam gripped his shoulder. “You alright there lad?”   
“Mmh,” Harry grunted. “Crash.”  
Liam gave a knowing nod. “Good ol’ dope.”  
“Fuck dope.”  
Liam chuckled at him. “Yeah, me too.”   
The two of them sat there in silence for a while, both dazed, dizzy, and woozy from the after effects of the drug.  
“Getting a cab,” Liam grunted after a while. “Going home and going to bed until I feel right again.”  
“Mm’Kay.”  
“Bye Harry.”  
“Bye.”  
For a while after Liam left Harry just sat there, head between his knees, feeling awful until he fell asleep. When he woke his stomach felt queasy and his mouth felt dry, but all around it was better that how he had felt earlier. So, he did what any self-respecting English man would do and put on a good, strong pot of tea. He hummed as he waited for the kettle to boil, thinking again about what Liam had said to him.   
Wow, you love him.  
~~  
All Louis let himself think about on the drive back to Harry’s flat was the fact that he needed a wee. If he focused only on his bladder he wouldn’t be able to think about how nervous he was to see Harry again. He felt odd in his own skin; the twins had gone ballistic at the department store they spent the afternoon in, and he was for once dressed casually instead of in a suit and tie. In some ways, it felt familiar. He had on a maroon tee shirt, navy joggers and a casual gray jacket. He always used to dress that way and though it did feel familiar, it was almost as if he had grown out of dressing this way.   
And bleeding hearts of hell, he had to pee.   
He gripped the steering wheel tighter, taking a deep breath. What if Harry thought he looked too funny? Harry always dressed so beautifully, was a model. Louis cracked his neck, anxious. He was about to ask a model on a date, a model who wore floral print sweaters and heeled boots.   
Jesus, he felt like his bladder would burst.   
Finally, all chances at turning back were gone and Louis shifted to park, killing his engine and grabbing the pretty blue orchid from the passenger seat before he could even attempt to chicken out. He jogged up the stairs to Harry’s stoop, quickly rapping on the door with his knuckle before stepping back to wait. He shifted nervously from foot to foot until he could hear the door unlocking. He tried to stand tall, and when Harry opened the door, the expression on his face was enough to melt Louis’ heart. Those pretty green eyes lit up when he handed over the orchid.   
“Aww, Louis,” Harry murmured bashfully. “What’s this for?”  
Harry looked like he hadn’t expected to see Louis again, but like he was elated to be proven wrong. This made Louis feel braver.   
“It’s a bribe,” Louis said folding both hands behind his back.  
Harry arched a brown at him. “Yeah? What for?”  
“Let me take you on a date.”  
For a scary second,, Louis feared rejection, but then Harry was ushering him inside, a huge grin on his face.   
“Come in,” He said bashfully. “Er, there’s a pot of tea on…Have a quick cuppa and I’ll get ready?”  
Louis looked Harry up and down, loose black tee shirt, blue skinny jeans, and a denim jacket.  
“You look great.” Louis said honestly.  
Harry’s cheeks flushed an attractive shade of pink. “Five minutes?”  
Louis smiled, plopping on the couch where Harry had tea set out. He fixed himself a cup and sipped hiding a smirk. “I’ll give you tea.”  
Quickly, Harry popped his orchid in a water bottle and scurried out of sight. As soon as he was gone, Louis remembered that he has to pee and made a quick trip to the loo. He fussed with his hair a little before coming out. He hadn’t worn his hair this way since he opened his very first casino and he felt a little foolish, but eventually he forced himself to cool it and go back to his cuppa. Harry had said yes, after all.  
Thankfully, the tea actually helped calm his nerves. Harry had a very charming tea set, pale blue with red roses, and he clearly put a lot of effort into tea time even though he was planning on having it alone. That made Louis smile, and just as he finished his cup, Harry emerged from the bedroom.  
Louis’ heart skipped a beat. Harry had on an off white button down with pale peach vertical stripes and the top half totally open. Showing off his many necklaces and inked up chest. He had matching bracelets, tan suede boots with heels that made him even taller, black skinny jeans, and a hat. He looked perfect; his nails were even black to match his hat. He looked so casual, but also so Harry. No other man could have pulled this look, but damn if Harry didn’t.  
Louis was convinced that Harry could pull off a potato sack if he had tried.   
“…Do I look okay?” Harry asked nervously pushing back his long, dark curls. The nervous gesture caused his hat to fall off and he blushed scarlet. Louis chuckled when he scrambled to retrieve it.  
“You look better than I’ve ever seen anyone look.” Louis replied. “More beautiful, too.”  
The smile Harry gave in response melted Louis’ heart. “I really mean that,” He added.  
Harry’s face broke out into a full on grin and he put his hat back on, grabbing Louis’ hand and beaming at him.   
“So,” He asked, swaying as if he could hardly contain his excitement. “Where are you taking me, anyhow?”   
“Dunno,” Louis admitted, leading Harry out and down the steps. “Was thinking we could take a walk through the city, hope it doesn’t rain, grab a bite to eat…” He shrugged. He hadn’t really thought the date through; all he wanted was to spend some time with Harry. “Play it by ear?”  
Harry swung their clasped hands as they walked, nodding, then bashfully hanging his head when his cheeks went pink. He hid behind a veil of his hair and Louis’ chest felt tight, his heart swelling with affection. Acting so shy, Louis wondered if Harry Styles, the model, truly understood how beautiful he was. Louis lifted their clasped hands, kissing Harry’s knuckle before standing back to open the car door.   
“Princess,” Louis said sweetly.  
Toying with his bangs again, Harry slid into Louis’ passenger seat and buckled up. Once he was in, Louis moved around to get into his own seat and they were off, cruising through London.   
As they drove, Harry reached for the stereo and turned on whatever CD was in the drive. Louis’ stomach dropped. His own voice came over again, and then Harry grinned. This is what he had wanted.   
“Harry…” Louis said, uneasy.   
“I want to hear you sing.” Harry said back.  
“Something about the way Harry smiled stopped him from turning the CD off and they both listed as Louis spoke on the CD.   
“Melody recording attempt…number seven.”  
Mortified, Louis stared straight forward as they listened to himself altering between banging out notes on a piano and singing meaningless vowel sounds as he tried to put together a jazzy melody.   
In spite of Louis’ embarrassment, Harry had his eyes lightly closed, smiling. The sight made Louis smile, so letting go of his pride he sang along with the lyrics, he hadn’t written since recording the CD. Harry’s face lit up and when the song ended, he put his hand on Louis’ thigh.   
“You wrote that?”  
“Well, yeah.” Louis admitted shyly.  
“It’s a love song.”   
Louis’ cheeks went red. “Mhm.”   
Harry looked forward, dimples appearing as he fought off a smile. “Who about?”  
“Come off it.” Louis mumbled sheepishly. “You know full well who about.”  
“Kevin the Pidgeon, I’d reckon.”  
“Oh yeah,” Louis laughed. “Definitely can’t get anything past you, Hazza.”   
“Hazza?”  
“Do you prefer Harold?”  
“Dear god, no!” Harry laughed. “But Hazza makes me sound like a magic act.”  
“Well you enchant me.”   
Harry rewarded his comment with another of those bashful smiles Louis’ was growing to adore. Under Louis’ gaze Harry just looked so nervous, like he was waiting for Louis to suddenly start acting like Nick. Louis parked his car and killed the engine, turning towards Harry and taking his hand.   
“Don’t be so shy,” Louis encouraged him. “I want to be seen with you.”  
Quickly, Harry swooped in and kissed Louis on the cheek. When he pulled back, Louis was eyed and Harry just smiled.   
“Shall we go, then?” Harry asked coyly. “I’m curious to see where you’re taking me.”   
Feeling lighter than air, Louis came around to open Harry’s door for him. That kiss had him on cloud nine. He took Harry’s hand and kissed it, leading him down the busy streets.   
“Pick any place you like Princess, tonight, London is your castle.”   
Harry looked thoughtfully at all of the places they passed. They walked for the better part of an hour, just talking about themselves. Louis found that the more he learned about Harry, the more he liked him. Together, it felt like all they did was laugh. Even trudging down the soggy streets of London in the cold, Louis was having a lovely time just being near Harry.   
Then, in the middle of a sentence Harry stopped in his tracks, dimples appearing as he smiled.   
“Here,” He said sounding sure. “Let’s go here.”   
Harry was pointing to a karaoke bar.   
Louis sighed; he knew he would never be able to say no to those dimples. “Alright, doll face.” He said. “Go on then.”   
Harry’s expression seemed to change for moment, but he was back to smiling so quickly Louis was almost sure he had imagined it entirely. So, hand in hand they ducked into the bustling bar and found a seat. It was a lot classier than it had seemed from the outside and Louis found himself grinning.   
“Come here often Hazza?”  
“No, not at all.” Harry replied promptly, beaming ear to ear.   
While they ordered their food and drinks, they enthusiastically watched the stage. It was your typical Karaoke crowd, no voice to special, and after a few drinks Louis found himself wanting to show off, especially in front of Harry.   
“I’m going in.” He said dramatically.  
“Make me proud.’ Harry answered, just as over the top.   
Grinning, Louis got up and picked out a goofy Scottish love song, all but shouting it to Harry from the stage. It was loud, Louis could hardly hear himself above the music. Somehow, even though he was usually a fair singer, he could do little but scream.  
Still, Harry looked at him like he was a star. When the song ended, Harry surprised him by joining him up on the stage, gesturing toward the DJ booth. The music started and Harry sang straight to him, classic rock, a love song, his voice sweet with the perfect edge. Louis was so mesmerized by him he almost forgot to sing along. Harry slung an arm over his shoulders and when the chorus came around, Louis joined in.   
The crowd was screaming as they shared the mic, but Louis could hardly hear them. This moment on stage with Harry was all he cared about. The rest of the world could burn around them and he wouldn’t even notice.   
When the song ended they were both breathing hard, eyes wide, with cheesy smiles on their faces. Harry dragged Louis into a hug, then a bow, before urging him off the stage and back to their table. Harry’s eyes were bright like neon and the sight of them gave Louis chills.  
“You never told me you sang.” Louis accused.   
With a breathtaking smile, Harry leaned his elbows on the table, tantalizingly close. “You never asked.”  
~~  
I had an amazing time. LT  
Just sending a text had made Louis’ chest feel tight. Harry had only just exchanged phone numbers with him, and he already he wanted to talk to him. When he felt his phone vibrate, he nearly pissed his pants.   
Me too, sleepy now, though. HS  
Louis smiled.  
I won’t keep you then. LT  
No, no, it’s fine. HS  
I was actually going to text you. HS  
Oh? And say what? LT  
Goodnight .<3 HS  
Louis heart felt warm and he laid back against the driver’s seat with an ear to ear grin.  
Goodnight Hazza. LT  
Head in the clouds Louis finally got out of the car, fully intending to go right to sleep, but as soon as he opened the door of his house he was attacked. Groping hands gripped him by his clothes and yanked him inside, dragging him up the staircase and to his room. The door locked and the twins grinned at him, eyes expectant.   
“So?” They chorused.  
“He’s perfect.” Louis groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “He’s stunning, he’s sweet, he’s funny, and he sings like an angel. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I feel like I’ll never be able to relax until I die because thinking about him makes me all jittery.”  
“Louis, you love him!” They both shrieked, erupting into giggles when he put an arm around each of them, yanking them into his lap.   
“Quiet, you vixens!” He hissed. “It’s a bit early for all that now, isn’t it?”  
“Its love at first sight,” Phoebe sighed.   
“Please tell me you kissed him.” Daisy begged. “I’ll die happy.”  
“Not yet, hell.” Louis snickered. “Not on the first date, you little demon.”  
“But you wanted to?”  
Louis thought back to that smoky karaoke bar, to the way Harry’s eyes had glittered while they whispered at each other. “Yeah, I wanted to.”  
Just as the girls erupted into giggles again, there was a knock at the bedroom door. Snickering, Louis untangled himself from his sisters and unlocked the door. Johanne smiled at him.  
“What’s going on in here honey? I heard screeching.”   
“Nothing!” Daisy chirped, dashing from the room, dragging her twin along.   
“Bye!” Phoebe giggled.  
The door slammed shut and Johanne raised her brows. “What’s with those two?”  
“No idea.” Louis fibbed. He didn’t really want to flaunt his sexuality yet. Only the twins knew and the thought of telling his mother made him nervous. “So, just checking on the noise then?”  
“I wanted to check on you, actually.” Johanne answered. “You may be my biggest baby, but you’re still my baby. I just want to know how you’re doing.”  
“You should be resting, Mum.”  
“All I ever do is rest, it’s dull.” She gripped.  
“Fair enough.” Louis chuckled, going back to his bed and perching on the edge.  
Johanne sat beside him, putting her cold hand over his and looking thoughtfully at all the tattoos there. “How are you feeling, Louis?” She asked, her eyes home to years of worrying. “You’ve been so sad recently.”  
“I’m fine, Mum.” He assured her. “The casino is doing well…some bloke from the U.S. actually tried to buy me out.”   
“But you’d never sell.” She sighed, clearly exasperated.  
“I have to provide for my family.” Louis said “I won’t gamble you comfort on a deal that’s too good to be true.”  
“I just wish that you didn’t have to worry about it anymore, honey. I wish you could trust people enough to let go of this silly Casino.”   
Louis looked down at his knees. “It’s not so bad,” He fibbed.  
“But you’re just so serious all the time,” She said sadly. “I miss my carefree, goofy boy. The boy with a smile and a handful of sarcasm for everyone. The boy I raised was just so full of joy, I want him back.”  
Louis thought back to the date, how he had purposefully made a fool of himself on that stage just to make Harry smile. “He’s still around.”


End file.
